


Please Don't Forget

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: (FIGHT ME), Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Aro!Mara, F/M, I'm sure one day I'll come back and write more, Of the human experiment variety, Pre-threegulls, Science Fiction Elements, but for now I can at least stave that off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 05:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10430004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: “This is the third day in a row he’s worn a white shirt, are we sure he’s not a spy?” Objectively she knows that white reflects sunlight better, and thus more conducive to keeping one cool. But she is also certain that a normal men cannot havethatmany pristine white shirts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this whole thing comes from [this](http://whenwolfsbaneblooms.tumblr.com/post/158692170392/au-idea-3421), and I meant for it to just be a little three scene drabble. Then my Brain was all: "BUT WHAT IF IT HAD A PLOT?!?!?"
> 
> ...thanks brain...
> 
> anyway.
> 
> Title comes from "Heathens" by Twenty-One Pilots

Behind Mara the floorboards creak slightly.

Usually this is cause for concern, but she’d long since memorized Duke’s gait. His arms wrap around her a few seconds later, loosely, with easy breaking points. Just one more reason she’d married him.

“What are you staring at now?”

She snorts, as if he doesn’t know. “This is the third day in a row he’s worn a white shirt, are we sure he’s not a spy?” Objectively she knows that white reflects sunlight better, and thus more conducive to keeping one cool. But she is also certain that a normal men cannot have _that_ many pristine white shirts.

“Yes,” Duke’s tone is patient, but not condescending. A tone he’s perfected on her. “Mara. We know Nathan is not a spy. A cop however, yes.”

He’s right of course, they vetted all their neighbors before moving in. If any of them had been spies the two of them would know.

For a minute they both watch their next door neighbor cut up branches to put in his yard debris. Even if they’re in Maine it’s the middle of summer and the sun is beating down.  Meaning that white shirt of his is clinging with all the sweat he’s worked up doing yard work. It paints quite the attractive picture.

Duke rests his chin on the top of her head. “The neighbors are starting to talk.”

“About what? We haven’t even been caught having sex on the porch.” Not that they’ve _had_ sex on the porch, but honestly does no one here have anything better to do than gossip?

It earns her a laugh, which pleases her. “They seem concerned that you’re not very sociable.” Duke doesn’t sound worried, so Mara won’t worry either. He’s the one who’s better with people. So let their neighbors gossip.

“Do I need to be social?” She’s not worried, but curious. She might know _of_ social mores, but that doesn’t mean she understands them. Another reason she married Duke.

His hold tightens, but only for a second. “No, not unless you want to be.”

A frown crosses her face. “We could give Nathan some sugar, that’s a thing neighbors do right?” If they were on a mission such fixation would be something she avoided, far too many variables came from pursuing relationships with civilians. But the two of them are laying low for a year, so a fling is an acceptable idea. Lucky for her Duke might love her, but also understands that he can’t give her everything. On the other hand she’s seen signs of interest from him as well.

“You’re only supposed to give a neighbor sugar if they ask for it,” she can’t see it, but she knows there’s a smile on his face.

“Then lets sneak into his house tonight and steal his sugar, if he has none then he has to come over and borrow some.” She gives a sharp nod, as if that solves the whole problem.

Behind her Duke chuckles, and she moves when he turns her. “He might just go to the store and buy more.”

“Then we contrive to shut down all the stores between here and the police station,” honestly it’s like he doesn’t know her at all.

Another laugh. “Or,” he takes a step back, and she follows. “We could _bake_ him something and bring over lemonade. Which will take far less time and effort, _and_ we get brownies out of it.” Well when he puts it like that…

“Alright,” she agrees. “I _guess_ we’ll make brownies.” Even if it would be more fun to try and shut down grocery stores.

Duke beams at her. “That’s the spirit. Come on, I’ll let you lick the bowl when we’re done.”

-

“Hey. Nathan right?”

Blinking Nathan turns his head to see one of his new neighbors looking at him from across their shared fence. “Yeah,” putting down his clippers he takes off his gloves. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name.” He’s not the most social person in the neighborhood, although he’s been here forever so everyone just accepts it.

“Duke Parker,” the man answers with a smile.

The fence wobbles and a few seconds later a woman pops up next to him. “Audrey Parker,” she says without prompting. “We have brownies and lemonade if you want some.”

It almost sounds like a demand, and Nathan finds himself bemused.

“What my wife is trying to say is that we happened to accidently bake far more brownies than we really could eat and thought we might as well share.” Audrey rolls her eyes, and Nathan finds himself biting back a sound of amusement.

“Far be it from me to say no to brownies.” His stomach rumbles in agreement, reminding him he’s been out in his yard for a few hours. The lemonade’s starting to sound real good now too.

As if this is all the prompting she needs Audrey finishes climbing the fence and leaps over onto his side, landing catlike between his hydrangea bushes. Like she doesn’t see him staring at her in surprise she turns and holds her arms out, they just barely brush the top of the fence and Nathan’s impressed that she managed to climb it so easily. “Brownies.”

Her husband smiles at her, eyes twinkling. “How about I just come through the gate like most people do Audrey.” Without waiting for her to reply he turns and follows the fence, Nathan wondering if he already has the brownies and lemonade in hand.

“My way’s faster,” Audrey calls to his back before finally turning to face Nathan. She marches up to him and holds out a hand. “Hello.”

Again the bemusement comes back, but Nathan doesn’t see it as a bad thing. Audrey isn’t the first blunt person Nathan’s ever met. “Hi,” he responds, wiping his hand on his jeans before shaking hers. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” They might be his next door neighbors, but they’re both clearly busy with whatever their jobs are and so he hasn’t seen them around all that often.

“Same,” she answers. Her grip is more firm than he’d thought it would be. Granted he doesn’t know what she does, so that thought probably wasn’t the most charitable.

She seems reluctant to let go when he pulls his hand away. “Come on, I’ve got some deck chairs we can sit on.”

He hears the creak of the back gate as they step onto his back patio and a moment later Duke joins them. He even brought glasses. Nathan’s cop sense is wondering if they set this up, and for what reason. Then he has to remind himself this is Haven, so it can’t be _that_ nefarious.

So when Duke holds out a glass full of lemonade Nathan accepts it. “Thank you,” because his parents raised him to damn well be polite. It’s good lemonade too, not too sweet, not too sour.

Audrey nudges the plate of brownies towards him. “Duke is an excellent cook.”

 _Painfully_ blunt then, granted if the brownies taste as good as they look, she’s got good reason to be proud. He reaches out and grabs one, taking a big bite.

Damn, she was not lying. Intense chocolate and what he thinks is salted caramel flood his mouth, and he’s got to hold back some probably very indecent sounds as he chews. Swallowing he smiles. “She’s right, these are amazing.”

She beams at him, while Duke’s own smile is much more toned down. “Thanks, it helps keep me entertained.”

Nathan finds himself making a questioning sound as he finishes off his glass of lemonade, definitely hit the spot.

“I do charity work, lots of time spent on the phone waiting.” He shrugs. “Cooking keeps me from wanting to stab all the rich assholes who think they can keep me on hold and I’ll just leave them alone.”

Next to Duke Audrey laughs. Nathan would almost call it forced if she didn’t sound so cheery. As it is they’re lucky he’s off duty. And that it’s clearly a joke. And that these brownies are _amazing_.

-

“Well, that was clearly a success,” Mara’s legs kick from the counter as she watches him make dinner. “Now we can move on to the next part of my plan.”

A fond smile crosses Duke’s lip as he reaches for the salt. “Seducing someone doesn’t have to be a plan Mara.” To be fair to her her whole upbringing had not been anywhere near normal. She’d told him everything when she’d proposed to him, so that he knew exactly what he was getting into.

She snorts. “It’s worked out well for me so far.” Out of boredom she picks up a few bottles of spices and starts juggling them. “And you don’t mind do you? He’s just so...normal.” It doesn’t surprise him she finds that attractive. “Granted I don’t think we’ll be able to ever have him over to the house.” She adds a knife to her juggling. No, not with Duke’s thrown together chem lab in the basement and Mara’s gun collection in one of the spare rooms.

“No I don’t mind,” he can see the appeal of it too. Living lives like they do the normal can be seductive. “And thank you for asking.” The positive re-enforcement thing feels weird, even after five years. It’s something Mara wants though, to help her, so he’ll do it.

He’s had casual friends who, even after explanation, are still confused how he and Mara work so well. They seem to find it sad when he explains to them she doesn’t love him.

Honestly he’ll take her trust over an attempt to fake love any day. He plays at falling in love so often in his area of expertise that coming home to a woman who _doesn’t_ love him is...nice. A relief even. He actually does love her, but he doesn’t have to _do_ any of the expected romantic things with her. Not like he does with his targets.

If he’s honest he finds he gets a rush out of knowing that this dangerous woman, who is merciless but not without compassion, _trusts_ him enough to share his bed. To let her guard down and just _be_. Fucking sexy.

Which comes back around to the normal really.

They can’t let themselves be fooled that they _can_ be normal. But they can have tastes of it. If things go the way Mara seems to hope they will with Nathan, it’ll be an excellent taste while it lasts.

“Of course,” Mara’s answer pulls him out of his musings. When he glances over at her she’s stopped juggling, everything back where she’d grabbed it from. “I’ll go set the table.” She leaps from the counter and starts heading for their dining area.

“Mara,” he calls out. Rummaging through the back of the spice rack. When he turns back around she’s looking at him, eyebrow raised in question.

He tosses an orange pill bottle at her, the black capsules inside rattling. She catches it easily, but makes a face when she realizes what it is. “I tinkered with the formula again. Should probably go back to the lower dose until we know how you react.”

“Thanks dad,” bitterness fills her voice. Duke would be offended if he didn’t already know she’s not talking to him.

She pops the cap off and shakes two out into her hand, tossing them back and dry swallowing them. “Bleh, you could at least make them taste like cherries or something.” She closes the bottle and puts it in her pocket.

“Pretty sure half the point is for you _not_ to be addicted again.” She can’t live without them, but she can at least control her intake.

A huff leaves her. “I know,” there’s no exasperation in her voice this time. “Thank you.”

He shrugs. It’s not that he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it. It’s just...something he’s going to do, because he loves her.


	2. Chapter 2

Mara lies flat on the roof, the cement’s still warm from the heat of the day. Not that she much notices, what with her attention on her sight, and the view of a very important party she has through it.

Even though her phone is off she can almost feel it vibrate, Duke having probably called a million times demanding to know where she is. She _does_ feel bad for breaking one of their most important rules, but this is more important than that. And if she _had_ told Duke he would have tried to talk her out of it. She can’t have that, not when she might not get another chance.

Her father, come out from whatever bunker he’d moved into after she left, rubbing elbows with the men and women who make his work possible.

Panning her rifle she looks for him. It might have been fifteen years, but she knows he won’t have changed that much.

 _There_.

She doesn’t take the first shot, she waits. This is a long game, one that _will_ end tonight, but only when she wants it to. She keeps tracking him. Watching as he mingles and gladhands. Not even flinching when people cross before him, patience she has learned in spades. Perhaps not what he wanted to teach her, but it’s the best thing she ever learned because of him.

His back is to her bank of windows as he goes to get another drink. Taking a deep breath she rests her finger on the trigger. Breathes out, breathes in again.

Pulls the trigger.

She keeps her eyes in her scope long enough to see the bullet rip through the top of his spinal chord, near instant death.

Mara starts to pull away when she sees a flare of dark.

Her breath catches in her throat as it resolves into friendly blue eyes.

William.

 _Fuck_.

Thirty seconds, that’s how long it’ll take her to break down her rifle. Enough time for him to get out of the building.

She doesn’t waste a second.

Before she slings her messenger bag over her shoulder she reaches in, grabbing her pill bottle. They taste disgusting dry, but she still chokes down two. Then runs.

No use trying to get down to the ground, not with William possibly chasing after her. She leaps over to the roof of the next building, rolling to keep her momentum. Two miles to the nearest Sanctuary, that’s all she needs to do. Two miles.

When she reaches the gap between this building and the next she hears a thump behind her. He’s faster than she remembers him being, dad must’ve changed up his formula. She doesn’t turn to look, just takes the jump. Sprints across this new roof.

Fire escape, down or still across?

Down means people, but across is quicker, if with less chances to lose him.

Down it is.

Her feet hit the asphalt and she can feel the aether starting to kick in. Good. Dad might’ve changed William’s formula, but _Duke’s_ changed hers.

“Mara,” despite not wanting to she flinches as he calls out to her. But she doesn’t stop, mile and a half.

Not as many people as she’d hoped, but it’s better than none. She moves around them easy, she wonders if they even know she’s there.

The cars she jumps over to cross the street certainly know she’s there. Not that they’re going to be much obstacle for William she knows, but it’s better than nothing. She keeps running, if she slows he’ll catch her, and then that really will be the end. Mara won’t allow that, she enjoys her life too much to let _William_ ruin it for her.

Half a mile. She doesn’t know how far behind her he is, and if she turns to look it’ll waste time. There’s no sound of pursuit, but that doesn’t mean anything. William can be quiet when he needs to be.

With aether pumping through her she picks up speed. Two blocks, she turns down an alley. One block.

There’s the door.

It opens easily at her touch, and she slams it behind her.

“Ma’am?” An almost monotone woman’s voice comes at her from the other side of the cramped, nearly empty room. “Can I help you?” One of her hands is under her tiny desk, a gun Mara’s sure.

“My…” For a second her mind scrambles for the passcode. “My name’s Gertrude.”

The woman’s grip relaxes and she gives a hint of a smile. “Well welcome, what can we do for you?”

Mara’s scared to step away from the door, as if with her pressed against it like this William can’t get in. “Room, twenty four hours.”

The woman clearly picks up on her nervousness. “Were you followed?”

“Possibly,” Mara could’ve gotten lucky and lost him. But it’s probably wishful thinking. “Sandy-brown, blue eyes, smiles too much. Charming.”

“Protection costs extra.” Mara knows, but she’s willing to pay.

Finally she pulls herself away from the door and approaches the woman. Who’s good enough not to tense. “Laundry? Food? Wake up call?”

Unslinging her bag she sets it gently on the desk. “I’d like this cleaned, but that’s it.”

“Then your total is fifty.”

Fifty thousand dollars. It’s not exactly a sum Mara wants to hear, but she’s willing to pay. Still she forks over her Sanctuary card.

The woman takes it and pushes a button Mara can’t see, a second later a wall panel appears and vanishes behind the rest of the wall, revealing an elevator. Mara steps into it gratefully slumping against the wall as the door closes again.

Safe. Or as near as can be.

It’s probably not a good thing as an assassin to have a _person_ be safety. But it's happened to her. She won’t consider herself truly safe until she’s at Duke’s side again. Wherever that may be.

Guilt tangles in her. Will he even have her back? She’s broken one of their core rules. One that, if he asked for a divorce she wouldn’t begrudge him it. Mara probably hasn’t lost Duke’s respect, but definitely his trust. Her chest feels tight and she can feel tears leaking from her eyes. Damn it!

She dashes away her tears, just in time for the elevator to come to a stop. The door opens and she stumbles out into the room, not even bothering to undress before falling on the bed and curling up.

Mara falls asleep arguing with herself over whether she should call Duke or not.

 _“Mara, this is William.” She peers around her dad’s waist to see the boy he’d brought home with him. William is_ dirty _, clothes, hair, skin. He doesn’t smell, but she still wrinkles her nose._

_“When was the last time you bathed?” It’s perhaps not the nicest thing to say, but it’s not like she’s had many people to talk to. And daddy doesn’t like it when she lies. So better to tell the truth._

_William bristles, but her father laughs, reaching behind him to ruffle her hair. “Oh Dove, not the start I would have wanted, but I know you’ll be the perfect pair yet.”_

-

Duke has long since stopped pacing the kitchen, two days. _Two days_. That’s how long it’s been since he’d seen Mara. He’d stopped pacing the morning after she’d vanished, the news had pretty clearly told him the _why_ of why she’d vanished. But worry still gnaws at him. And it will until she comes back.

He’s going to shove her in a damn bath and pamper the fuck out of her. Afterwards he’s going to do his damn fucking best not to yell at her, not when he hopes she already feels guilt about what she did to him.

 _No matter what, we let each other know where we’re going. So we can help if need be_. _That_ had been no-negotiable according to Mara. Now she’s the one to have broken it first. It _hurts_.

Yelling at her won’t make it better he knows that. But it’s going to be hard not to when he needs to let out all this worry and anxiety in him.

He’ll certainly have enough food to shove at her at least. You’d think he’d be better at dealing with stress considering. Yet he’s been stress-baking since he woke up today. At least baked good don’t go bad quickly.

“Hey,” Nathan speaks up from the kitchen island—Duke knows last month they agreed to not invite him over, but this is extenuating circumstances. It’s been nice having someone to lean on too—even if Nathan doesn’t know the whole story. “She’ll be alright.”

Duke blows out a long breath as he crouches down to check his third batch of muffins; one of her guns, easier to use than his own methods, presses against the small of his back. “I know.” She’s faced down far worse than her father, and come out smiling. But why hasn’t she tried to contact him? He knows she wouldn’t just run away, she’d come back and take her damn lumps, even if she didn’t like it. Because she’d owe it to him.

It would take work reminding her that his love isn’t conditional, and yet also keep in mind the fact that she _has_ broken his trust. A fine line, and part of him hates that she put him in this position, but he’d gone into this marriage with eyes wide open. Laying blame like that would just make things more bitter.

“I still can’t believe she’d run off without telling you,” Nathan, for all his detective skills, is oblivious to Duke’s mental back and forth. Then again Duke wouldn’t be any good at his job if a civilian could read him that easily.

The sound of the front door opening has him tensing. “Duke?” Mara calls out, her voice tentative and aching.

He doesn’t hesitate. Racing out to the entryway before Nathan probably even realizes what’s happening.

She’s _there_ , she’s _whole_.

Without thinking he scoops her up into a hug, squeezing her more tightly than she’s usually comfortable with, but right now he needs to just hold her. She hugs back, proof of just how broken up she already is. “Duke,” she whispers it into his shoulder.

“Damn it Mara,” he murmurs back. Not fighting his tears when they spill over.

“Well this is touching.” A strange man’s voice breaks the moment and Duke jerks his head up. He might never have met the man, but Duke knows him from Mara’s description. William.

He lets go of Mara, and is unsurprised when she takes a knife from _somewhere_ and charges for William. She lands it, right under his sternum and up towards the heart. She dances away immediately, and Duke finds himself going for the gun he has.

Despite his injury William smiles. “Don’t you remember Mara? I don’t have a heart.” He charges.

Before either of them can react Nathan’s there. Only to get a punch to the solar plexus and thrown into the stairs for the trouble. It gives Duke enough time to pull out his gun however. Stepping in front of Mara he fires, perfect headshot.

William goes down. Duke’s not convinced, not if he survived a knife to the heart. Going up to William he fires off two more shots into his brain. It’ll be a pain in the ass to get out of the hardwood but it’ll be damn well worth it to know that William won’t be coming back.

“What the fuck?” Nathan’s wheezing jerks him back to reality.

-

All Nathan can do is stare. Because his whole world’s been turned on its head and he has no idea what to think anymore.

Audrey returns from wherever she’d vanished to, a freaking _machete_ in her hands. She goes up to the body and raises the matchete above her head. “Stop.” It doesn’t come out quite the command Nathan would like, but to be fair he’s still mostly out of breath.

She does stop though, turning to give him a strange look, her eyes harder than he can ever remember them being. “What?

“What the fuck are you doing?” Despite the punch he’s doing his best to channel his father, otherwise who knows what she or Duke might do. They’re clearly _not_ the picture he’d formed over the past month. Not if they hardly seem bothered by _this_. But still. Not how he pictured his day going.

“Cutting his head off,” she says like it’s the move obvious thing in the world. “Just in case.”

Using the wall he pulls himself up. “No,” it comes out firm thank God. “No one is cutting anyone’s head off.” He might vomit for one.

Her eyes stare at him, as if gauging him. But she sets the machete aside, Nathan takes a small breath of relief. Only to narrow his eyes as she crouches down next to the man’s head. “Duke, you grab the legs. We’ll take him to the car and head out to the Munst’s pig farm.”

Oh God, no, this is some weird ass nightmare and Nathan’s going to wake up any second. He _swears_ . Until then he needs to soldier on. “No.” He repeats. “No one is chopping off heads, or disposing of the damn body. This is a _crime scene_ and I’m a fucking _cop_.” He’s not just going to let them kill a guy in front of him, even if it was in self defense. “I’m going to call the station and we’re going to deal with this like the self-defense case it damn well is.”

His words are met with silence, Audrey and Duke staring at him like they don’t know what to make of him. That’s a laugh. He follows her gaze when she glances at the machete. ‘If you call the police will they search the house?”

If they just happened to have a _machete_ lying around, then clearly there’s more they don’t want people to just...happen upon. Nathan might regret this later but, “not unless they have a reason to. And not if I tell them not to,” he answers slowly. It’s not quite breaking the law, but it still weighs heavy on him.

“Fine,” Audrey snatches the machete up and vanishes. “Duke I hope you used one of my registered guns!” She calls out, and damn it Nathan did _not_ want to hear that.

Duke gives a wan smile and huffs. “Course,” he calls back. Then goes over to Nathan and helps him hobble over to the phone.

Nathan makes the call, feeling strange as he does so. Haven’s crime is usually petty in nature, nothing at all like _this_. Whatever it actually is. It’s definitely going to be the talk of the town for the next few years ‘remember when that nice Parker couple killed a man?’ Even if it actually had been self-defense.

“Couch,” he needs to sit the fuck down. And not just because he’s having trouble breathing.

Audrey once again appears out of nowhere, with a glass of water in hand.

He accepts it gratefully and drinks. Feeling a bit better, but still not one hundred percent. But at least he doesn't sound like an old man when he speaks anymore. “Who the hell was he? And what the fuck just happened?” He feels a bit like a broken record.

Duke and Audrey share a look, their simple glances conveying a whole conversation that Nathan doesn’t understand.

“We’ll tell you,” Audrey says it slowly. “But if we do you can’t go back. You can’t exactly unlearn it.”

“But after this if you want to know,” Duke continues. “We’ll tell you.”

Nathan wonders if this is the best idea. They’re clearly willing yet reticent. Audrey’s ominous words aren’t exactly helping his doubts either. But after this he thinks he can’t _not_ know. Even if he has to swear to n ever tell another soul.

“Tell me.”


End file.
